


31 Days of Food Fantasy

by DapperSheep



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Doodles, Drabble Collection, Gen, M/M, Multi, Multiple Copies Theory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-13 15:13:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 16,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DapperSheep/pseuds/DapperSheep
Summary: A collection of doodles and/or drabbles for the31 Days of Food Fantasy Challengeon Tumblr.





	1. Introduction

 

I know I have a lot of backlog in terms of multi-chapter fanfictions I have started, but I'm technically not good at keeping my attention to just one thing.

So here we are.

 

Anyway, you may know me as Peixes in-game if you've ever caught sight of me.

Welcome to my humble contribution to the aforementioned 31 Days of Food Fantasy challenge.

This will mostly parallel what I post on Tumblr, though the challenge will be primarily hosted here. I can't say that everything I'll write or draw out would be exciting, but I will endeavour for it to make sense. If I am in the mood for it, a day's entry would have both a doodle and a drabble.

 


	2. Favorite Defense Soul

  
  



	3. Favorite Strength Soul

  
  



	4. Favorite Magic Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is a small companion fic to yet another series I have in the works.

 

The day Pizza was summoned into the life of his Master Attendant wasn’t a day he would call exciting in a good way. In fact, if it wasn’t for a Cheese and Cassata already under the Master Attendant’s wing, he wouldn’t have anyone he could talk to right off the bat. He already felt alienated as it were, being a shining beacon of optimistic exuberance in the oppressive and gloomy atmosphere that seemed to pervade every nook and cranny of the household.

Thank god for Cassata and Cheese. He may not always enjoy Cheese’s somewhat harmless teasing and pranks, but he needed it. He needed her sisterly doting concern to help keep himself smiling when all around him were irritated and tired faces who shot him various looks whenever he tried to cheer them up or help.

Today, it was Cassata’s turn to take him away for a little distraction and to help him catch up to the news since Master Attendant couldn’t do it themselves with how busy they were kept even until now.

“So let me get this straight…” Pizza began slowly, trying to recall everything that Cassata told him as they sat on the edge of the roof of their home- _his_ new home. “There was a Fallen Angel attack during the festival… And there were clowns. Big, scary clowns that weren’t here to have harmless fun?”

“Yep.” Cassata nodded, chewing on the stem of a leaf he seemed to perpetually have sticking out of his mouth.

“And then there was a huge fight that lasted for days that’s why everyone looks so tired?”

“Yeah. It’s a good thing you weren’t here to see it.” Cassata reached out and ruffled his pale blonde hair. “It was chaotic. I think the city lost a few Master Attendants in the firefight, aside from Food Souls.”

Pizza pouted, letting out a breath. “Mreh, I would have liked it if I could help fight too.”

Cassata regarded Pizza with his good eye then shrugged. “Trust me, fighting Fallen Angels is a Food Soul’s duty, but that doesn’t mean that it’s something we throw our whole lives into without regard.” He sounded melancholic to Pizza’s ears.

“Eh? That sounds strange coming from you, Cassata.” The blonde Food Soul may be a new incarnation like so many of the other Pizzas walking around after the fight, but it was like he and Cassata knew each other long before they were summoned into this world. Being melancholic and hearing those words paired together was very odd coming from him.

“Is it? Huh…” The redhead looked to the overcast sky, a flash of emotion passing over his face. “I guess the past few days had me seeing something else in a different light. Funny how that works.”

Pizza didn’t have anything to reply to it. In a way, he understood what Cassata was trying to say.

But this mood feels so off too, like he wanted to reflect on things that he knew next to nothing about. Or how he had came here as some sort of prize instead of being summoned because he was needed. He shouldn’t be thinking about such things, but he found himself drifting back anyway.

A hand fell on his head again and he turned to see Cassata with a gentle smile directed at him.

“Hey, at least you’re finally here. I doubt I could handle Cheese for very long on my own.” That brought an answering grin to Pizza’s face as well. He pushed back his gloomy musings for now, not wanting it to ruin this moment.

“Yep. Our trio can’t be complete without me. Besides, both of you would be lonely without me around!” Pizza exclaimed. “But still…”

“Hm?”

“Why couldn’t I have been summoned in time for the festival?” Pizza complained loudly, puffing out his cheeks and comically flailing his arms. “I wanted to have fun too!”

Beside him, Cassata barked out an amused laugh.

 


	5. Favorite Support Soul

 

It was a thought that weighed heavily on his mind for the past few days. Normally such subjects didn’t bother him, but after an unexpectedly insightful conversation with the musclehead Tempura after a night of drinking and actually remembering the important bits of that event, he had the sudden urge to find an answer to this question.

He’d decided to snoop around and figure it out on his own, at first. But the problem with that was that there were too many Food Souls in the house at any given time of the day. And even when many of them appeared to not care what the rest of their fellow Food Souls were up to, sneaking into their Master Attendant’s bedroom was still seen as fishy.

Only Rice and the two redheads from the Showdown team ever had the permission to go in and out of there without anyone questioning it. Maybe Nasi Lemak too, but Miso Soup wasn’t counting on that being true.

The Food Soul tried thinking of other ways to find the answer on his own, but found that such a task was daunting and tedious. In passing, he reconsidered this personal mission and thought he really shouldn’t be spending so much time on something so trivial. After all, he is an upstanding monk who should be above all of this.

Except that the curiosity really wouldn’t go away. Not because it had something to do with him personally, but that he did have this burning need to sate it.

Today, he caught Master Attendant without anyone else nearby. And that was a rare enough so he decided to take this opportunity to end this once and for all.

They were his Master Attendant. Surely… they wouldn’t find offense in a teensy tiny little question, right?

“I have a question, Master Attendant.”

“What is it?” His Master Attendant asked, brown eyes fixed on him amicably.

“This may come off as sounding very silly, but Master Attendant-” He breathed in, not understanding the sudden pang of anxiety he felt but the words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Are you a man or a woman?”

The utter silence following that question was so heavy, one could hear a pin drop.

“Ah.” Said his Master Attendant, the tone of which sounded like everything suddenly made sense. “Huh, I never thought it wouldn’t be obvious.”

Miso Soup wasn’t sure what to make of that answer, but when Master Attendant motioned for him to come closer, he pushed that thought aside and listened to the answer they whispered into his ear.

 


	6. Main Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My general ‘adventuring’ team changes party members too often so I’m going with the team that’s more constant for this one.

 

At first it was only him and Steak. That was fine because Showdown was a way for both of them to cool off, and for him to be a menace without being scolded for it because hey, it’s not his fault no one can dodge him.

He wouldn’t admit that it also helped cement a certain kind of camaraderie between himself and the dog. He had a feeling that Steak would sooner just forget he ever said it while he himself would rather not feel like he owed the other anything beyond a professional partnership for the sake of Master Attendant.

Sometimes Miso Soup was called onto the team when they had to face a particularly strong team. The monk made it a point to look sour about being teamed up with an all male team, but otherwise nothing untoward happens.

That was the routine then.

And then Bloody Mary arrived.

There wasn’t a Showdown day that didn’t have the crossdressing Food Soul shadowing Steak’s footsteps or coaxing him to ditch the fight and come with him for one reason or another. Steak dealt with him well enough in his own way, but that didn’t stop Spaghetti from sometimes grabbing Mary and reminding him that they had a round to finish.

Unfortunately, Spaghetti was also the household manager outside of Showdown so this Mary-and-Steak issue was a recurring problem he had to deal with almost everyday.

On one hand, this problem quickly stopped becoming a problem before someone lost an arm. On the other hand, it stopped becoming a problem because it just renamed itself to Mary-and-Steak-and-Red-Wine-arguing-like-particularly-dangerous-children. Red Wine didn’t join the team until much later, which at least gave Spaghetti time to adjust his glorious lowkey threatening pep talk to include Red Wine to ‘pretend the enemy team is full of Bloody Mary’s’ instead of trying to cripple their own Mary. It doesn't always work.

Spaghetti _will not_ confess that he probably had a hand in the arguments escalating from time to time. In his defense, he was being the mature and levelheaded one and they were being petty when all he wanted was to go out and mess someone’s shirt up and make them miserable.

When he pointed this out to his Master Attendant, they laughed and shook their head goodnaturedly.  _“I’m sure you can figure something out. You do like being in control anyway.”_ Was the final answer Master Attendant gave him.

He wasn’t sure if Master Attendant was confident in his abilities, or it was a veritable lack of self-preservation. Either way, Master Attendant wasn’t too concerned about what shenanigans they got up to so long as it didn’t result in the Royal Chefs’ Guild knocking on their doors or someone did end up losing an arm.

_I suppose it couldn’t get any worse. At least they have good teamwork._ Spaghetti mused as the crowd roared at whatever explosion happened in the arena proper. They were queued for the third battle after this, and already Spaghetti could see the beginnings of a naughty little smirk playing on Mary’s face as he carefully draped himself over Steak’s shoulder and whispered something in his ear.

In front of Red Wine, no less.

The Food Soul looked like he was slowly counting to twenty and back and quickly failing that, if the minute twitch in his facial features was any indication. If not, certainly it was the hand slowly moving to grasp the hilt of his blade that sent the final warning. Red Wine wouldn't cause a scene in this place, this Spaghetti knew. But he couldn't be too sure how much patience Steak had in regards to Mary pressing himself close to the horned Food Soul. Spaghetti made a step in their direction before a familiar voice grabbed his attention.

“Spaghetti!”

He turned around to find Pizza waving excitedly at him as he quickly approached, his shining eyes and wide smile making Spaghetti’s heart sink into the pits of his stomach with a sense of impending doom.

“Master Attendant says I’m on the team now!”

He shouldn’t have said it too soon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being a jerk aside, Spaghetti is seen as a cool guy by Pizza because he doesn’t give Pizza special treatment or attention, and just treats him as he would anyone else. Also in regards to Spaghetti finding Pizza problematic in Showdown? Headcanon that Pizza is not combat wise and just attacks without learning to sync with anyone on the team. For someone like Spaghetti who likes strategy, that’s a walking nightmare.


	7. Inside Restaurant

 

“Master Attendant.”

“I’m telling you, it’s going to sell.”

“Master Attendant, please.”

“It will rake in more tips so we could renovate the rooms on the second floor. It’s been like that for too long and I think the plumbing system needs an upgrade.”

Not that the restaurant or their Master Attendant needed the extra money. With how Plum Juice took care of the finances and the restaurant team being co-managed by himself and Pancake with Cheese as their front, the restaurant was doing very well.

But that was besides the current point of contention.

“Master Attendant, Operation ASS sounds like a terrible name for a menu combination.” Pudding grounded out from across the table, trying to get the topic back on track. Not only was it not kid friendly, it also had nothing to do with the actual food items that were on said menu except for one specific thing. But in the grand scheme of things, it was negligible.

“I think it’s a great idea~” Cheese agreed with, smiling widely with her hands behind her back and swaying back and forth.

Pudding ran a hand over his face, feeling a dull ache forming in his temple which shouldn’t be possible for a Food Soul, but somehow it was. He gave his colleague a long suffering look to which she merely smiled pleasantly back at him.

“Pudding, come on. There’s no harm in experimenting.” Pancake, who had been watching the whole conversation, quipped.

“I’m concerned about what our patrons think.”

“You know, at the end of the day, people will still flock to wherever there’s good food. And we serve good food.” Pancake said. Pudding wanted to agree, but that would just send the wrong idea.

Suddenly, Master Attendant clapped their hands on the desk and stood. “So it’s settled! Cheese, I’m going to need you to help me with the menu setup and how to handle the customers’ questions. You too, Pancake. Operation ASS is going live tomorrow.”

Pudding jerked up from his seat. “We’re done? Wait, Master Attendant, I’m asking you to reconsi-”

“Pudding?”

“... Yes, Master Attendant?”

“Everything will be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Later, Pudding was surprised that ‘Operation: ASS’ actually did work. Unfortunately, it worked too well in tandem with Cheese’s exuberant personality and _Jello_ , of all Food Souls, to be joining the bandwagon and marketing ASS to every customer who enters their restaurant. Skewer was the only one who looked remotely disgusted by the name, but she had a temper towards almost anything. With the influx of customers, so was there a number of people who thought they could get away without paying their bills. Pudding didn’t bother with them, the security team were more than happy to get some action done.

It took all of Pudding’s management skills, and every available soul on the restaurant team to serve each and every customer until closing time.

“I am not looking forward to tomorrow.” Pudding sighed as he made his way to the Ice Arena.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever since I figured out how the dish class upgrading system worked, this was something I wanted to happen. And it did.
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 


	8. First UR Summoned

 

  
  
Minus Foie Gras who was a guaranteed UR unit when you did the tasks, I’m pretty sure I got Bamboo Rice first over B52.

 


	9. Favorite Location

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for the Sakurajima Arc. This is where the story will actually diverge from canon.
> 
> In-game, the crew heads on straight to Palata to do heroic things when in this universe, Master Attendant wants nothing of that and refuses steadfastly from chasing after Westminster and thus returns home to Gloriville to a quieter life.

 

The cherry blossoms were in full bloom by the time Peixes and the rest of the group made their way back to Shinohara Island from Yellow Spring. The tiny port town on the neighboring isle of Kamome was the only place in the whole archipelago that anyone from the outside could do business with, though more often it was the Palata sailors and merchants who docked and traded with what was left of Sakurajima’s human population. Gloriville and Nevras merchants were rarely seen here. Peixes assumed it may be due to the hostility of the Palata merchants who saw them as rivals for business.

It was interesting to note that the people here were the descendants of those who had survived both the plague and the reigning terror of Orochi, mainly those who were left behind when so many others had escaped to the other kingdoms despite the kingdoms being at war.

They were at least used to seeing foreigners, though being foreigners with Food Souls, Peixes still earned the strange look or two when they were flanked by Rice and Crab Long Bao who insisted on staying behind while his teammates returned to their home in Gloriville.

While Olivia saw to the resupplying of their vessel, Mithra had wandered off on her own again. Ichi had decided to tag along with Peixes, seeing as he didn’t want to be alone with either of the women who would, as he put it, either put him to work or subject him to a long scientific tirade about one thing or another.

The two humans found a quaint tea shop on the outskirts of the port town, on a well worn path that led to the village further into the island. A kindly and elderly woman served them delicious green tea and dango as they sat outside, enjoying the view of a sea of pink as far as the eye could see.

It was beautiful, truly beautiful in a sense that after all that has happened and for all the horrors that they have unearthed, the world still had its moments of tranquility. People still strive to live on, whether in ignorant bliss or knowing that they could die at any moment. It was… it was simply the way of life.

In this serenity, they wondered about the fate of Sushi and Sashimi. Couldn’t help thinking of how they would be the only Food Souls left in the home of their master. It was… a lonely near-eternity, but what could Peixes do but respect their wishes?

_ One day, maybe we will cross paths again. _ Peixes mused. It was wishful thinking, but one that didn’t sound impossible. Their thoughts then turned to Huaye and all those people in Yellow Spring, left to live their lives as they pleased and yet they couldn’t be called human anymore. In a way, Inugami had done them a service, but at the same time, was it even worth it?

Peixes took a long sip of their warmed tea, mulling over the question. It was a hard pill to swallow, but in the end, they stood by their decision to leave this business to Inugami and the people who owe their extended lives to her.

_ “This is all I wish for you. Simply live.” _ The voice echoed from deep within the recesses of their memories, harmonizing with the words Huaye had screamed at them.

They looked to Rice beside them, who was utterly fascinated by the sweetened rice cracker the old lady had given her. They remembered the day they first summoned her, the words that spilled from both Olivia’s and that Boston Lobster’s mouth.

Peixes averted their gaze to the sea of pink, their gaze at once far away and firm. They were not anyone’s judge and executioner, Food Soul or human. That was a life they had swore to never return to.

“Yo, Tierra to Peix! Are you done musing or can I get that last stick if you aren’t going to eat it?” Ichi teased, bumping shoulders with his mentor and senior. Peixes threw Ichi an exasperated smile and elbowed him away from the tray, deftly grabbing the last stick of dango before Ichi could even think of reaching for it.

“Unless you’re actually paying for the food, no you’re not allowed to have the last stick.” Peixes said, sinking their teeth into one sticky ball and pulling it off the stick. Ichi made a show of whining, but the master-attendant-to-be eventually gave in and ordered another set for himself.

“I can’t believe we’re finally going home. It’s been an adventure, huh?” Ichi spoke.

“If you call nearly getting killed twice an adventure, sure.”

Ichi shrugged, tossing Peixes a grin. “Well at least that’s enough to last a lifetime. I can’t wait to get home and start cooking again. Ah, I miss the kitchen already.”

They smiled almost fondly at Ichi, their enthusiasm and optimism infectious. Downing the rest of their tea, Peixes then asked, “So are we taking back some bentos for the trip? It would save us from cooking for the first night out.”

“Great idea. Might as well have some edible souvenirs from this place.”

“So a bento each?” Peixes asked, raising four fingers for the humans on the trip.

“God, no. Make that three for Mithra. That woman eats enough for all of us.”

Yeah. He had a point there. Still...

“You know that’s basically indulging her and encouraging her to get tubby, right?”

Ichi barked out a laugh. “Hah! Mithra? Tubby? You know what, why don’t we just order five and see if she puts on weight during the trip? I mean, I do remember she was kinda getting round around the middle the last time she was over and nearly ate through the fried rice supplies.”

“... If she suspects anything, I’m name dropping you so fast, Ichi.”

“Traitor.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kamome island is a fictitious island for the sake of the story. But the name is taken from the real island in Japan.


	10. Favorite Fallen Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Fallen Angels that make an appearance here are my favorite for one reason or another.

 

“So what are you naming yours?” Mooncake asked him.

“We can name them?” Pizza said disbelievingly. He never thought about that. When his Enhanced Mochi began to squirm restlessly, Pizza lifted it from his lap and placed it on the ground, letting it slither off curiously over to Cassata who kept it from trying to climb him with the blunt end of his weapon. Cheese, on the other hand, cooed at it and made noises in order to get its attention.

Seated on the ground while her miniaturized Spectra made loops around her head, Mooncake beamed at him. “Umu~ Sure you can! Gyoza named theirs Dumpling.” She answered, then caught Spectra in its midloop. The Fallen Angel hissed and growled at the interruption of its fun, but otherwise let Mooncake handle it without trying to stab her fingers with its tiny knife.

“This one is Balloon!” She said proudly.

Pizza leaned in closer, utterly fascinated with the idea that they could name their Fallen Angel partners. Almost at once, a plethora of names passed through his mind but when he thought of how Master Attendant let them share Fallen Angels or switched them around as needed, he deflated at the thought that maybe his Enhanced Mochi wasn’t just for him.

“Eh… I don’t know, Mooncake.” Pizza said dejectedly. “I was just given this Fallen Angel yesterday. Maybe it’s not just for me.”

“Are you kidding?” Cheese piped up, half her attention on the Enhanced Mochi who finally gave her its attention and was now curiously running its tentacle appendages all over her hands. “Honestly Pizza, you’re not a goldfish. Master Attendant said you could keep it since it was hatched with you in mind.”

“Stop teasing me, Cheese. It’s not bad to not jump to conclusions sometimes.” Pizza huffed, puffing out his cheeks in a pout.

“Easy, guys. Don’t overdo it.” Cassata’s easygoing tone softened the warning.

“And did you know?” Mooncake grabbed Pizza’s attention again. “Steak and Spaghetti named their partners too. It would be sad if you didn’t name yours too.”

It was Cassata who replied. “You’re kidding. Steak I can understand, but Spaghetti? That guy hardly calls anyone by their proper names except when he’s particularly annoyed.”

Mooncake puffed out her cheeks. “Am not! He never called its name?”

“He only lent me his Fallen Angel once but uh,” Pizza furrowed his brows, trying to recall the memory. “I don’t remember him addressing it in any way.”

Mooncake put a finger to her chin, looking thoughtful. “Umu… that’s weird. The Fallen Angel didn’t respond to anything else once he named it. But whatever, it’s probably trained so it doesn’t need to be called as often anymore.”

He could testify that Spaghetti’s partner was indeed well-trained, just as well-trained as Steak’s too. “Is it a good name?” Pizza asked. If Spaghetti and Steak had named their partners, then surely they had to be something good. He could narrow down the list of names too if he had some point of reference.

Instead of giving him a straight answer, she shot him a wide grin with a gleam in her eyes that reminded him of Cheese’s expression when he was about to fall for one of her pranks.

“Hehe… why don’t you ask him to find out?”

Now he was curious. It was a bad idea, but he was really, _really_ curious.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only time Spaghetti was ever fooled was when he walked straight into Mooncake’s simple manipulation. To be fair, she was pretty good at convincing him and Steak is by default, dense.


	11. Favorite NPC

 

There is a Master Attendant in Gloriville who many Master Attendants called ‘Uncle Bento’. It wasn’t his name, but rather a moniker he had earned for himself over the years of the one thing he was known for in this city.

If a Master Attendant didn’t know who he was, they were likely fresh graduates, or they weren’t from around Gloriville. He didn’t advertise this daily activity of his, but rather it spread through word of mouth. And so long as Master Attendants came around the hours he had specified, they would be assured of getting something from him.

“Peixes! On time as ever, eh?” Uncle Bento laughed, his laughter deep bellied and rumbling. Today, it was his Macaron and Long Bao distributing small bento boxes to the small queue ahead of the younger Master Attendant. Uncle Bento was moving up and down the line, cordially engaging the Master Attendants in small talk and laughing once or twice at a joke someone made before moving onto the next person.

“Hah, I’m not on time, uncle. It’s two minutes to the cut-off.” Peixes responded.

Uncle Bento chuckled and patted them on the shoulder. “Right, right. But you never fail to come around just in time.”

Peixes shrugged with a polite and easy smile. “What can I say? Your food is the best and I have yet to figure out how you do it.”

“Well kid, you’re going to spend a lifetime figuring that out.” Uncle Bento answered amicably.

For a man slowly moving past his prime, uncle Bento certainly didn’t look the part of an old man. Peixes could bet that he wouldn’t even need the assistance of his Food Souls when he came across trouble in his restaurant.

“And here’s one for you Master Attendant Peixes!” Macaron beamed as it was their turn in the line. The cheerful Food Soul handed them a small bento box and the Master Attendant thanked her.

After serving the few others that came after Peixes, Uncle Bento returned to the storefront and clapped his hands. “Alright, I guess that’s the last of the people for today. Time to close up shop for the day.” He said and his Food Souls responded, beginning to put away the utensils and other equipment.

It seems that today was also a day when there wasn’t any leftovers left. Uncle Bento seems to have a knack for figuring out how many meals to make so by the time cut off rolled by, he didn’t have to worry about having not enough for the last of the queue.

Peixes turned around and was about to make their way home when two blurred figures rushed past them and skidded to a halt before the closing shop.

“We’re too late!”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let Milt entice me into a round of charades!”

Unfortunately, they recognized these two.

“Guildmaster? Helades?” Peixes was struck dumb as the two Master Attendants dropped to their knees and sobbed. Wheeling up to Peixes’ side was Helades’ faithful Raindrop Cake in his wheelchair, who merely sighed as if this was a daily occurence and had stopped caring about trying to talk them out of this dramatic reaction.

“Why does this always happen to me?!” Peixes’ guildmaster screamed, earning themselves strange looks from several passersby. Peixes could only watch on in exasperated silence along with the Food Soul beside them until the two Master Attendants recovered enough to stand then suddenly whipped their heads around at them.

“Quick! What did he have for today’s menu?”

_ Why do they do this to themselves? _ “Uh…” Peixes took a peek into the small bento box. “Looks like mixed meat okonomiyaki.”

Their answer was met with two different pitches of wails.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peixes' guild is weird sometimes and it's fun. This incident is based on a daily true story.


	12. Favorite Feature/Activity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love all the features of the game so far, but in terms of convenience, small ‘passive’ daily reward and for testing the team DPS power in general? Aluna the disaster birb.
> 
> For story purposes, Aluna the birb isn’t a daily mission but has an erratic appearance. Its activities are closely monitored by dedicated teams from the Royal Chef’s guild and the Academy.

 

“Gotcha!” A reverberating shot rang out closely after Pizza heard the yell.

Scattered across the barren wasteland were teams of Food Souls. Some had their Master Attendants accompanying them. Others like his own team were experienced enough with this mission to be able to act independently of their Master Attendant’s presence. But without their Master Attendant nearby, his team had a time limit before they strained their reserves too much. Still, it was enough. They swore they would do as much damage as they can before they were forced to fall back.

The bird screeched loudly, causing Pizza to turn his attention back to it in time to see it swooping low and fast. He barely had enough time to shield himself with his flag before he was thrown off his feet with so many others by the powerful shockwave that followed.

Thankfully he was out of its path and was quick to recover. Rolling deftly to his feet, He swung his flag-turned-scythe to send an arched slash at the Fallen Angel’s underside just before it got out of range.

Somewhere far to his left, he heard Cornbread whooping excitedly as another one of her deadly shots found its mark. And yet the gigantic Fallen Angel seemed unfazed by the rain of bullets, blades and magic thrown at it, a testament to its tenacity and rank of “Disaster”.

“Ooh, someone’s having fun~!” Mooncake gleefully yelled out.

“I’m right here, birdie! Come get me!”

“Gyoza! Please stop taunting the enemy!” Laba cried out, exasperated as she cast another spell to clear her allies of the aftereffects of the attack. Pizza felt a tiny smile creep onto his face, his heart warmed by the morale of his teammates surrounding him.

He turned his eyes back to the enemy and charged.

It felt good. It felt so good to be able to let loose like this without worrying if he was synchronizing with another Food Soul or watching an ally’s back in order to counter an attack meant for them or himself.

Pizza had never felt this kind of exhilaration in any of the other battles he had fought in before. Granted, Showdown was fun but it required him to work seamlessly with a team. And hunting the Devouring Beast came close to this level of fighting, but it was scary in that if Tangyuan failed to protect them in time, then it was a quick game over even before the battle could reach its climax.

But here? Here he was allowed to let loose and throw as much as he can. The Fallen Angel may be a global terror to humanity, but its mindset and behaviour was simple to deduce. So long as the frontline held and their healers were attentive, the rest of them could deem themselves relatively safe from being taken out of the fight too soon.

He could get used to this. If only Cassata could join him on this foray in the near future.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If my Food Souls appear to be having fun with this deadly mission, that’s because they are. It’s also because they trust in each other (and in their healer and tank) to keep the team from falling apart. That takes a lot of time working out the team kinks.


	13. Food Soul OC

 

  


 

I’m technically cheating but this also counts (and I’m lazy to design unique Food Soul OCs for #13 and #22).

Prior to the Food Fantasy app launching, me and a couple of friends got the idea to make gijinkas for alcoholic beverages. Being the overachiever, I went with the “Kiyohime” cocktail that’s unique to a particular restaurant locally. Being a modern drink, I gave her a modern design.

Anatomy of a Kiyohime: Shochu, Iced Tea, Mint and Lime.

Keywords to describe the drink: Long, Mild and Pleasant.

Possible class? Likely an R-ranked Support.

I took a long enough time designing her that I eventually got attached to her so here we are.

 


	14. Master Attendant OC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An introduction to Master Attendant Peixes. Considering that the Master Attendant is your player avatar in-game, Peixes would reflect some of my own characteristics and traits.

 

Their story was one of millions in the history of Tierra. It was no more than a grain of sand that made up the rich story of this universe. Small, insignificant, and yet interconnected with the world at large beyond what the human mind could comprehend.

They had a past, but they were quick to change the subject when the questions became too personal, preferring that people who knew them focused on the  _ now _ instead of the  _ then _ .

Peixes didn’t long for the spotlight, nor the responsibilities that came with being a Master Attendant. However that fateful day when Olivia came into their hole-in-the-wall restaurant had been the day they realized they couldn’t escape that part of their past and heritage.

No one could blame them when they went reluctantly into the world of being a full fledged Master Attendant. No one could blame them for being bitter and marginally detached with the whole business of summoning Food Souls when they wanted as little as possible to do with Food Souls for as long as they could avoid it. Maybe that was what influenced their initial summoning when Black Tea and Milk answered their call, along with Pudding. Knowing how professional the fighting class Food Souls were, Peixes did think they could make it through with the whole business with Olivia without getting attached.

That is until, Rice came along.

Rice. Who was  _ [broken]  _ and _ [defective]- _

_ No, mother, she isn’t defective! Please! _

“What are you going to do with her, Peixes? She isn’t much use in the restaurant or in a fight.”

Something had snapped into place the moment those words were said. Peixes reached out and pulled Rice behind them, as if shielding the tiny Food Soul from those who would harm her.

“No! She’s not broken!” They said vehemently, brown eyes glaring at Olivia who looked momentarily taken aback by the sudden fierce tone in their voice. Tiramisu had looked on in quiet surprise, unsure whether to intervene or allow the humans to work out the sudden hostility.

In the end, it was Olivia who turned the atmosphere around and steered the conversation back to the task at hand.

That was the beginning, now slowly being buried under two years of memories and experiences that Peixes would admit they didn’t really anticipate.

“Peaches.”

“Grapes. Specifically grapes fresh off the vine during the first harvest.”

“Mm… I would prefer cherries~”

“Of course you would.”

“Commoners, the lot of you. Clearly the apple is the superior fruit with the symbolism and mythology behind its rich history.”

“No one asked your opinion, Spaghetti.”

“I like apples too!”

“Alright, settle down guys. I need to brief you all before I leave for guild business and I don’t want any of you coming home from Showdown throwing pissing contests like that last time.” Peixes said above the rising voices of argument coming from their Showdown team.

There would always be someone else’s story that would be more grand and heroic. More tragic and cursed. More blessed and filled with the stuff that fairytales were made of.

But this… this was their story.

Even if no one else would care about the life and eventual death of a single human amongst so many, it was something that was theirs.

 


	15. Other OC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another drabble with Master Attendant Peixes and guild stuff.

 

“Guildmaster.”

“Vice Guildmaster.”

Peixes rolled their eyes. Their superior certainly knew how to respond in a way that was both deadpan and sass at the same time. But they digress, that was just how they interacted and by no means did it mean they actually hate each other. That would be counterproductive.

But it hadn’t always been like this. Prior to the Sakurajima trip, Peixes had only been a hardworking member amongst so many others. But somehow after their return, they received news that the previous guildmaster had stepped down and appointed someone else to run the arguably long-standing guild.

It didn’t take too long after that for the new guildmaster to pull aside Master Attendant Peixes and unceremoniously added them as a member of the upper management on the account that, ‘You’ve been here since forever so you probably know how this shit works.’

That was a hyperbole. And no, they did not know how this shit worked, thank you very much. But it didn’t take a genius to catch up to the basic policies and rulings set down by the Royal Chef’s guild even though Peixes swore they shed off a few years of their own life just trying to make sense of the thick handbook that repeated the same rules just in different wordings.

Now they understood why Phi didn’t even bother taking out the age old guidebook and reading it like they did. Their initial impression of the new guildmaster was that she was lazy and spoilt their Milt like a daughter but maybe she might have been onto something.

“Fine, Phi. About the full members list I said I’d check on...”

Their guildmaster looked up from a stack of papers and rose both their eyebrows in silent gesture to continue.

Peixes continued, “I think we can use a purge of the inactive members to open up applications again. Some of these people are retired last I checked, or even dead. And I mean, dead  _ dead _ .”

“Well that’s a shame.”

“Some have been dead for years.” Peixes added with a shrug. They slid the folder of papers across the table towards their guildmaster for them to peruse.

“How the hell did that happen?”

Peixes shrugged. Even they were baffled by what they had uncovered. All they could assume was that the clerical work was half-assed up until now.

It wasn’t too difficult to trace or track who was an active member and who wasn’t. The guild may be lax about the requirements to join, but Phi strictly enforced the age old rule of active contribution to the guild’s coffers through donations and volunteer missions. That was something they kept and upheld from the previous management who also got it from the management before them.

Many of the members never really met one another formally or outside of passing greetings when they happen to meet each other in the lobby and hallways, but it still amazed Peixes that a guild of near strangers was able to loosely function and keep this organization alive for this long.

Someone always kept the resident ‘floof’ fed and entertained. People always volunteered for the Devouring Beast missions. The daily quota was always met. The guild board was often half filled with notes and scraps of paper about one thing or another about personal updates, or guild upgrades suggestions that were slowly being worked on or considered.

And for some reason the pantry was always well stocked with cold snacks, even to the point that Peixes would sometimes find a box of puddings or a jug of milk with a scribbled ‘Mine. Don’t touch.’ in it. They never caught who was using the pantry refrigerator as their personal ice box but at this point, they stopped trying.

“Anyway,” Phi spoke, tossing the papers they were perusing to the side then stretched in her seat. “Is that all you’ve got for today?”

“There’s still the problem about Helades still using the parking lot as a Pizza summoning circle. Petrichor and Mitsu have volunteered to help but at this rate they’re likely converted to Helades’ cause.”

“Are you going to do something about it?”

Peixes rubbed the bridge of their nose, letting out a laugh that could only be described as indulging and annoyed.

“Me? I’d rather not. I don’t want any of them getting ideas about using me as bait to get Spaghetti to help them. That’s crossing a line.”

“Great! I guess that means you can go home early to Spaghetti and I don’t have to worry that we’re holding you against your will to overtime.”

“How many times do I have to tell all of you that Spaghetti and I aren’t together that way? It was just an oath. You don’t see me teasing you about Milt.”

“Nah… nah, look you can call it a ‘Bestfriend Pinkie Promise’ for all we care but we can see what that actually is.”

“I’m leaving.”

“I’m not judging you!”

“I can’t hear you!”

 


	16. First Pledge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided on a rare drabble + doodle for this one.

 

Contrary to popular belief, and to the belief of their guildmates, the exchange of oaths did not happen in a glorious ceremony the likes of which could be called a marriage.

No. Between them and Spaghetti, it was something memorable, but without the need to have it announced or made known to everyone. Peixes’ Food Souls knew, and that was enough for them. Everyone else can figure it out on their own.

And essentially, not a lot of things changed between them. It wouldn’t change Spaghetti’s pompous and pragmatic attitude, nor suddenly make Peixes hope that things would get better for the world. Neither of them were that naive.

“Spaghetti? What’s up?” Peixes asked one night as they found the redhead staring out at the window in the common room.

The redhead didn’t speak for a long moment, not until his Master Attendant came to their side. “I seem to have fallen victim to the paltry insecurities that plague humankind.” He spoke, sounding irritated. Peixes sighed and scratched the back of their head.

_ Always with the dramatic way of answering. _

Spaghetti continued on without waiting for a reply. “Perhaps it’s the sorrows of a different me, rippling through all of us. It’s rather troublesome that it would be this strong and affecting.”

“It wouldn’t be that strong if you weren’t thinking of something that invited that feeling.” Peixes pointed out. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

Again, Spaghetti didn’t speak immediately. The Master Attendant was used to their Food Soul’s moods, of what they may be thinking about but never saying it aloud. It was no different from people who couldn’t talk about their problems so openly to others, not even to people they trusted. So Peixes allowed Spaghetti to speak his mind whenever he was ready.

While waiting, they looked out at the same view that their Food Soul had been staring out at. In the front yard at this ungodly hour, there shouldn’t be anyone out. Most of the Food Souls functioned on a day shift, and those who still had the energy left usually confined themselves to their rooms or went out to town for a bit of a mood lift.

But there on the pathway to the gate was clearly Bloody Mary in his dress, tugging along Steak by his hand to who knows where. But what surprised Peixes more was that he was also tugging along Red Wine’s hand. By the way the duo seem reluctant but not resisting, Mary must have convinced them of something enough that they weren’t dragging themselves away from the silvery-haired Food Soul. That or things have changed between them. Peixes doesn’t know, but they do hope it’s an improvement.

“When you lie at death’s door, what will become of us?” Spaghetti’s deep voice sounded soft and oddly subdued.

Peixes bit their lip.

“I don’t know.” They answered honestly, just as they had the other times their beloved redhead dropped the question. “That’s something that would come when that time is near.”

“The reaper comes without warning, how would you know if there’s enough time?”

“I could wager on a hunch?”

Spaghetti shot them a firmly unimpressed stare, dropping a hand on their shoulder and squeezing firmly to drive home the point that he didn’t appreciate the answer.

Peixes shrugged, not daring to laugh at the look, nor wince at the none too gentle squeeze. “I know it sounds stupid, but trust me when I say that I’m not leaving any of you behind. Not for long.” They said.

Spaghetti scoffed. “You talk as if there’s a place beyond the  _ ether _ where we can go, where I can follow you. That is a dream more impossible than the world learning to be kind.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Life and death on this world is rather convoluted. Some believe that cycles aren’t only for Food Souls, but also for people. Some believe that death is permanent and the end of all things...” Peixes trailed off.

They turned to glance out the window. Bloody Mary and the duo have disappeared from sight.

“What if I want to believe that given there is a strong enough desire, there is a place where we can fulfill a dream that can’t be made possible here?”

“A wistful dream for fools. Nothing more, my master.” It would have sounded cruel and dismissive, if not for the hesitant pause between sentences. Spaghetti’s brows furrowed, before his expression softened with a small bittersweet smile playing on his face. “But it is pleasant, no matter that it is such.”

They remained that way a while. Then Peixes felt his hand fall away and Spaghetti turned around to walk silently out of the room. He stopped before the arch into the hallway and looked back.

“Sleep well, my master. We still have tomorrow to look forward to.”

 

ART FOR THIS DAY:

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of went with the whole 'Spaghetti is into flower symbolism' thing because his pledge lines (both of it) references flowers. But in all honesty, the sunflower here does not symbolize the master attendant. No, this honor is reserved for someone else. Spaghetti would find a different flower more apt for their Master Attendant, likely a Lisianthus.


	17. Most Aesthetically Appealing Character

 

There was something inherently attractive about Red Wine. At first one could see that his pale skin and soft curve of his face complemented the dark purple of his hair and his clothes. With his looks, he looked noble and respectable, especially when compared to most other Food Souls.

Sure, he wasn’t exactly the best in terms of personality, but then they’d be stupid to say that when they exchanged oaths with the redheaded bastard. And Red Wine could rival Spaghetti in terms of being a smartass, too. So that was a moot point.

But the form of Red Wine’s body as he deftly avoided a piercing stab from said bastard as they sparred was something else. It was fluid, almost as if it were second nature for him to move like it was nothing but a dance. Dodging was an art when done by the likes of Red Wine. The twirl and billow of his coat seemed only to accentuate each curve of his body as he spun, crouched and lunged at his opponent, rapier aimed to drive the tip of his blade into cloth and skin.

But his opponent saw through the attack and reacted accordingly, sidestepping the lunge and pushed forward with all intent to stab him.

His wine-red eyes honed in on the fork prongs barely missing his shoulder, sliding quickly to Spaghetti’s hands before pushing himself back with his dominant foot and putting distance between himself and the reach of the redhead’s weapon.

“Out of breath yet? We’ve just started.” Spaghetti taunted with a smirk. He’d dissipated his own fur lined cape at the start of the spar knowing full well that he needed a little more mobility to counter Red Wine’s speed. The princely Food Soul threw back a smirk of his own, one that spoke volumes that he was going to enjoy wiping the floor with Spaghetti’s face.

“You’re dreaming if you think you can even touch me without relying on your  _ magic _ .”

“Such bark for someone who relies on backstabbing to win a match.”

“You have guts to be a hypocrite. I’ll give you that.”

_ Dear god, these pricks. _ Peixes thought.

The two were relentless, each parrying and dodging attacks that would have otherwise did more than bruised each other. As the spar progressed, Red Wine had his brows furrowed and was frowning a little, as it looked like Spaghetti was doing more than his fair share of frustrating him.

Spaghetti may be slower, but he was calculated and Red Wine’s feints didn’t work, or he parried or interrupted Red Wine’s assaults forcing the other to change tactics at the last moment. On the other hand, Red Wine’s speed kept Spaghetti on his toes so much that he couldn’t concentrate on anything but defending himself and throwing the occasional thrust when he sees an opening.

“Wow, Spaghetti can actually keep up with Red Wine.” Rice said in an awe filled voice. She sat between her Master Attendant and Steak, who Peixes noticed was following every movement of Red Wine’s with such focus he didn’t even notice he was being watched.

Peixes felt the need to tease their Steak. It had been a little too long since they had and the moment was just too good to pass up.

“Hey, Steak.”

Steak grunted, half lifting a bottle of water to his lips. “Yes, Master Attendant?”

“I can see why you’re infatuated with him. I mean, sure you spent time with Pot’s Red Wine a lot before but I never realized just how good looking Red Wine actually is until now.”

If Steak choked on his drink and spluttered several different reasons why he, in no uncertain terms, was infatuated with Red Wine, then his Master Attendant merely agreed to the points with an absentminded nod of their head.

After all, it was more entertaining to watch Spaghetti take an underhanded swipe at Red Wine’s feet and sent him stumbling, his laughter cut short when Red Wine dragged him down with him as well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While Spaghetti is also a preference, he’s only one of the many who fit under my preferences, aesthetic-wise. In terms of physical beauty? Bloody Mary and Red Wine went head to head with this but in the end, the prince won over the noble in a bathrobe.
> 
> Rapier user, with a fashion sense that makes use of both form fitting clothes and a loose outer coat, on top of the fact he’s dark-haired and red-eyed. The vampire thing I can live with and without but it adds to the charm as well. I’m not so much into ‘tsundere’ but thankfully he’s not a by-the-book stereotype. Again, the way he was portrayed adds to the appeal. Not to mention he has a loyal boyfri- companion, in Steak.


	18. Most Liked Character Voice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fell in love with Foie’s ENG voice provider. Probably one of the very few ENG voices that I actually prefer over their JP counterpart.

 

“Master Attendant, would if you could bring back more feather downs? Escargot’s pillow stuffings need to be changed.” Came the genteel voice that could only belong to Foie Gras.

From the main door, they turned to her and nodded. “Sure, I’ll have Long Bao bring it back earlier. You need anything else?” They asked.

The Food Soul tilted her head, looking thoughtful. “I could…” She trailed off suddenly, then shook her head. “It’s not needed at this time. Perhaps at a better time.” She didn’t say anything else, nor did she stay to see them off and wandered back into the house, likely to the back garden to watch Salad and Yogurt tend to the herbs.

There was no one quite like Foie Gras. Food Soul or human.

She held herself with an elegant and almost aloof air, so unlike the rest of their Food Souls during the early days of their being a Master Attendant, sans Black Tea and Milk. Foie Gras consciously kept herself away from the humdrum and bustle of the everyday routine of the restaurant and household, though she was never too far away.

Foie Gras was responsible, fortunately, and didn’t require being looked after. Rather, she seemed to have taken it upon herself to keep an eye on everyone else, albeit still in an aloof manner. One could even assume she was doing all of it out of harmless curiosity at first. Master Attendant did catch her one time asking B-52 what constituted a machine.

Suffice to say, that was probably not something to ask any incarnations of B-52 as Yellow Wine accidentally found out, but he seemed to have taken it well enough and answered her honestly. She didn’t insist on a different answer and left him at that.

So now whenever they were home, Master Attendant could hear Foie’s voice in the foyer or in the common room talking to someone and rarely -so very rarely- hear her quiet laughter, not a strain of anger or irritation in her elegant tone. She always sounded so warm and happy like this.

And this, this was one of the small things they wanted to protect for as long as they could.

 


	19. A voice actor you’d like to hear in game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My write-ups function off the Multiple Copies Theory I have thought of. [ie, there isn’t only one Steak, Red Wine, etc. in Tierra, but none of the same type share memories.]
> 
> This is actually part of a private thing that’s going on between me and some friends. Though as a general rule, we don’t kiss and tell about it without permission.
> 
> Anyway, the JP provider I would like to voice a Food Soul is Takahiro Sakurai-san. Aka, Saber Prototype [Arthur] or Merlin. The prominent Red Wine here is voiced by Sakurai-san.

 

“Oh, no wonder I smelled a pig.”

No matter that it was not his Red Wine, Steak would still find himself essentially tempted to argue with one when confronted with the bastard’s smug face. But he promised Master Attendant that he would be on his best behaviour on this joint exploration with their friends’ Red Wines and Steaks, and so he forced himself to save the physical altercations for when they’re on their way back home.

A quick scan of their surroundings showed him no signs of his Red Wine being nearby, though it was likely he tagged along with the teapot’s pair to scout for sightings of the rumored Fallen Angel den in this area. For some reason, the teapot Master Attendant’s Red Wine seemed keen on socializing with his Red as much as possible. He didn’t know the reason why and neither of the two offered any explanation. Asking that Red Wine’s Steak was an irony in and of itself.

But back to the matter at hand.

“Find a different spot then.” Steak said testily. He crossed his arms then added, “I’m not moving for you.”

Red Wine frowned at him, at which Steak was inclined to throw back one of his own. The Food Soul looked like he was about to open his mouth and say something that could potentially turn this momentary rest into a full out -unnecessary- spat, but he instead clicked his tongue and said, “Scoot over. You could stand to get more sunburnt than me.” Red Wine punctuated the last word by prodding Steak with the steel tip of his shoe.

Steak grunted, hesitating for a moment before giving in and moving over just enough so that they both sat in the shade.

“There are other trees nearby.” The horned Food Soul pointed out just as Red Wine settled his pompous ass beside him.

“I like it here.” Red Wine said snootily, shooting him a look that dared Steak to talk back at him. He didn’t, though he wanted to.

It wasn’t long before this Red Wine’s partnered Steak returned from wherever he had slunk off to, his clothes appearing a torn up but looking relatively unscathed.

“What happened to you?” Beside him, Red Wine asked his partner Food Soul.

The other Steak tsked and replied, “I got stabbed by rabbits.” Red Wine snorted, looking highly amused, before he motioned for his Steak to come closer so he could check him over for injuries.

Steak felt like he was witnessing something private, and so averted his gaze though there wasn’t anything else for miles that could possibly divert his attention from their conversation. It didn’t help that neither bothered to lower their voices either.

“How long do you think it would take before they return?”

In the relative silence, Steak had almost mistaken Red Wine for someone else, especially since it sounded casual and the light tone was different to what he was accustomed to hearing from a Red Wine.

“I don’t know.” His Steak answered, to which Red Wine ran a hand over his own face sullenly.

“Not even four hours into this task and I already want to go home and laze in a bath.”

“Preening bastard.”

“Says the dolt who dumped all the peppermint oil in the tub and smelled like it for a week.”

“That was one time!  _ One _ !”

Right, now that Steak actually could think about it and this Red Wine was speaking more than just a few sentences at a time where he could hear it, he did notice there was a strange quality to his voice.

How could Steak put it? For one thing it surprisingly sounded less cocky and more mellow. Yes, that was a surprising thing. Certainly the words were said in a way that was meant to sound like Steak was below his attention but that Red Wine was obligated to give it. Yet the horned Food Soul couldn’t shake off the feeling that this Red Wine was only saying it to keep up appearances rather than genuinely meaning it. What it was in particular or what it may imply, Steak didn’t know. But in hindsight, the previous conversation he had with that teapot’s Steak was starting to make sense.

“Sit still for a moment. You have a wou-”

“Don’t you dare lick it!”

“What do you take me for? A bloodsucker?”

Watching them banter almost heartily made Steak wonder if this was how his relationship would have gone if Red was anything like this one. Then again, there was something definitely strange about this Red Wine, but Steak still couldn’t bring himself to be nosy about someone else’s business.

 


	20. Favorite Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is during the 7 days that Master Attendant has had Bloody Mary prior to the day they summoned Red Wine, so they have only begun working on their relationship as FS and MA in this fic.

 

It was a dress.

That had been Bloody Mary’s first thought when he peered at the display window of a boutique in Parisel, on one of the few errands he’d been asked to come along with Master Attendant and Steak.

Asked. Because his Master Attendant liked to think that he, Bloody Mary, had a choice in the matter. He was somewhat distrusting of his Master Attendant, but he couldn’t help it if that was his initial impression of humans and the contract in general.

Mary never said it out loud though, because he was smart enough to know that it would not be beneficial to him. And because he didn’t want to be denied an outing with Steak, someone to whom he had a particular liking to even though the sentiment wasn’t something he developed on his own terms.

He wondered if a Bloody Mary before him had a particularly good memory of the horned Food Soul, enough that it would be passed on to different incarnations? That’s something he’ll never find the answer to.

They were on the way home from the errand when they passed through a bustling street lined with luxurious boutiques and fashionable people from the upper middle class and the elite walking the streets and sidewalks. Eyes were drawn to him because of his strange choice in attire, never mind that he himself didn’t mind and Master Attendant didn’t tell him to wear something more suitable. Steak though, had been annoyed and demanded he conjured a pair of slacks at Mary for decency’s sake. He did, but only because it appeased the temperamental redhead.

The off-shoulder dress caught his eye as soon as it came into his peripheral and he stopped in front of the display, worn by a featureless mannequin in a stylish pose meant to show off the corset and the way the mint green triple layered skirt flowed and revealed a scandalous amount of skin should it be worn on someone made of flesh. The mannequin even wore a matching veil and jewelry accessories, giving the outfit an overall feeling of the wearer being between the innocence of a young maiden and yet slowly slipping into the sins of adulthood sexuality.

_ I want it. _ Was his second thought. Not because he had a Food Soul in mind he could coax into wearing it -although it would have been fun to imagine getting Steak or a Red Wine into it-, but because he wanted it for himself.

Granted, he could conjure up a magical copy of the outfit, but Mary was feeling materialistic and wanted something he could hold in his hands, something he could hang and appreciate calling his own. Besides, a magical copy felt like cold nothingness to him. Whereas a solid outfit could still retain some measure of heat, especially if he were to press himself against someone warm.

He stood in front of the boutique long enough that his Master Attendant noticed that he wasn’t following and came back to find him where he stood.

“What is it, Mary?”

Bloody Mary shook himself from his thoughts, flashing his Master Attendant an enigmatic and easy smile “It’s nothing. I was just a little distracted.” He answered. Steak and his Master Attendant glanced at each other, before his Master Attendant glanced at the display. Mary watched their expression carefully, eyes hooded and waiting for any sort of reaction from them now that they were figuring out what he had been doing.

“Do you...” Their Master Attendant began, sounding unsure as they pointed at the display. “.. want the dress?”

He could say yes. He could tell Master Attendant to buy this for him and that would be the end of it. But at the last moment, uncertainty grabbed him. Was he being given the illusion of choice? Would he be judged for wanting something that was not for the shape -the sex- he took form as? He wouldn’t have cared for any of it. But the contract forced him to take into consideration what his Master Attendant thought and liked, not that he knew any of it. That wasn’t how the contract worked.

In the end, he didn’t want to suffer needlessly, and so chose the answer that he thought would benefit his Master Attendant.

“It’s just a dress.” He answered instead.

The subject wasn’t insisted upon and they continued on their way home. He thought it was what they wanted to hear that’s why no mention of the dress ever came up after that.

That was until two mornings later, he was called down from his room by Master Attendant and received a rather large box from them.

His heart sped up in excitement. He didn’t dare hope, but at the same time, he couldn’t help holding onto the box just a little too tightly and spun away to retreat to his room and nearly ripped open the lid and the onion wrapper that protected the beautiful dress he couldn’t get out of his mind since he first laid eyes on it.

It fit, surprisingly. He looked over himself in the mirror to see that the corset fit snugly around his waist. The skirt fell around his legs like he’d imagined it would given his height, leaving enough room for imagination.

But looking closely at himself, he noticed that even with the full outfit on, something still seemed to be missing. He thought long and hard about it, spinning this way and that until he finally noticed what it was.

He’d never done this before, was never allowed it even during what he remembered of his first summoning a handful of human lifetimes ago. But he wanted to, and so he did.

 

 

“Master Attendant!”

His Master Attendant looked up from their perusal of the books and discussion with Plum Juice to look at him as he came into their view. The surprise on their face was not quite what Mary wanted, but at least they didn’t look disgusted, nor looked like they were embarrassed.

Bloody Mary spun a little in place, smiling gleefully as his narrow cool blue eyes found Master Attendant’s gaze again.

“Oh? You changed your hair?”

“It looked better this way~” Bloody Mary singsonged. He’d permanently lengthened his hair into waves cascading down his back, stopping just shy of his pelvis. The tips were even highlighted in the same color as the dress, fading from silver to mint green.

Peixes nodded and asked, “How’s the dress?”

“I love it.” Bloody Mary said, with all the honesty he could muster. He still couldn’t wrap it around his head that his current Master Attendant would do this without expecting any favor in return. But for now, he was too giddy to nitpick about it. Perhaps when the excitement ebbs will he sit down and think about it.

For the first time since his creation, Mary felt a surge of pure unadulterated happiness at being given something he wanted, and being able to do as he wanted.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloody Mary, as much as I can glean from the halloween event and his lines, is a passionate devil-may-care individual who indulges himself, regardless if he steps on someone else’s toes doing it. There’s also an underlying bitterness to him in regards to being limited in his freedom and towards Master Attendants in general, but he covers it up very well so that others would just pass it off as him being manic, finicky, and disinterested in what doesn’t or no longer satisfies him. And that’s putting it generally without getting into the whole blood and Steak obsession.
> 
> Sure I use the Multiple Copies Theory, but the same theory also states that individual copies do affect each other in some way, which builds up a sort of ‘template’ for new incarnations to use as a foundation for their personality and way of thinking. Resummoned incarnations may also start reflecting changes, depending on whether or not it’s needed to adapt to the MA who summoned them.


	21. Fan Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Fantasy Alternate Universe where they are human, and things pan out pretty much badly since that seems to be their declared fate.

 

The glittering crown weighs heavy on his head. It belonged to the man who he had once called father, but that man had died long before his head had been severed from his neck. Before he had made that decision that sealed the fate of this kingdom and his children.

The fur lined royal purple cape felt like chains shackling him in place as he sat on the gilded throne, the man before him declaring him to be the king of this new age as opposed to the previous king who had nearly driven the country to ruins and forced his younger brother to raise a coup d’etat in cooperation with the old king’s eldest son.

_ Lies. All of it. All lies for the sake of power. _

“-- That he had helped us bring down the tyranny of his mad father… and bring this kingdom back to everlasting prosperity…” He wasn’t listening anymore. His thoughts drowned out the nasally voice of the man who spared his life, but would be using him for as long as he saw fit.

Or at least, until he manages to procure an heir with that hag of a cow he has for a wife.

He recognized some of the faces in the noble court spread out before the dais like a sea of bodies. People who had been his friends once. Who had been Tiramisu and her twin’s closest confidantes. Who had kept Pizza company in his wild and youthful romps in the capital.

Now they were nothing but cowards who hid their faces away, or stood proud looking smug at how they had rightly chosen the side who won.

A cold fire burned in his heart, dark and all-consuming. It demanded retribution for the loss of his family. It demanded reparations be paid in the blood of those who had betrayed him.

But most of all, it demanded the head of the man who had been the catalyst. That man who had manipulated a desperate father’s heart to give up his youngest son -the spare, the unwanted bastard brother who he had adored nevertheless- in exchange for prolonging the life of Tiramisu’s twin sister who had been slowly succumbing to disease.

He would probably never know Pizza’s true fate. He didn’t hold out hope that Cassata and Cheese would ever be able to find where he had been spirited away. But he consoled himself that at least Tiramisu had escaped before they could catch her. For all that they argued over many things, he still respected her as the eldest.

_ “Tiramisu. Be selfish for once.” He’d snapped at her at the entrance to the underground waterways that ran beneath the castle. Gone was her refined gown, and instead she wore the nondescript uniform of a page. _

_ “Spaghetti, come with me!” Her tone was imploring and urgent. She tugged at his hand, to which he slapped her hand away. _

_ “You know as well as I that they aren’t satisfied simply by imprisoning father. I will buy you time. One of us has to live on. Now go.” He pushed her in the direction she was to take and he quickly turned around, making his way back up to the castle before the rebels could find the hidden tunnel he exited from. _

_ He never stopped nor looked back. _

At the sound of his name, he pulled away from his reverie. He stood up from the throne, pushing away the cape and walking forward to the edge of the dais in all his white and purple refinery, a ruby studded silver sceptre in his hand.

He spoke the empty words they told him to say. He spoke them with a confidence that he did not feel, rather that all consuming hatred was what ran through his veins as he barely kept himself from unleashing hellfire all across the room and being done with this charade.

He would play this game for as long as he can. Though he was merely a puppet king in the eyes of his half-uncle, Spaghetti did hold some sway in parts of the kingdom. Whether or not he died at the end of this, he was making sure this kingdom fell.

But he was confident he would survive long enough to personally seek revenge against that bastard who called himself Whiskey.

_ Come hell or high water. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just love it when Whiskey is a homewrecker in the most non-romantic way?


	22. Design a unique FF OC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Full title/day challenge would be: Design an FF OC based on the last food you ate that isn't a canon Food Soul yet.
> 
> I was pressed for time so I didn’t expound too much on her. But I still love how she came out anyway.

 

  


 

_“Ah, Master Attendant. I hope you aren’t going to a party anytime soon. You look like a tough piece of work to rectify.”_

 

Pancit Palabok, or just  _Palabok_  for short.

She’s a sociable sort of Food Soul. And when I mean sociable, you’d probably find her at any social gathering, be it big or small. She’s drawn to the crowds of humans and Food Souls alike, to the instances of life mingling with life. Regardless that she may or may not be the center of attention, Palabok likes to be around others.

She appears like a regal lady entering the prime of her life, her clothes a contemporary of a period in the past and the aspect of human society’s modern simplicity. She wears her hair in a firm bun to signify that while she enjoys parties and the gossip that comes with it, she also has a maturity and strictness to her that’s reminiscent of an aunt clicking her tongue while saying, ‘look at all these people being petty.’

That said, she may also come off as prideful and defensive. It may be the result of her constant socializing that many have seen her as a social butterfly or a Food Soul too nosy for her own good. Palabok takes offense to this, and while she keeps up the air of a woman who thinks of these accusations as below her, sometimes it just gets to the point where a little sass is needed to remind people she can very well hear them and understand them. She does has a caring side to her, despite that it comes off as overbearing.

She may like talking to a person, but it doesn’t mean she immediately likes them. While she may look like a Food Soul who may not be able to hold her own in a fight, don’t underestimate those heels and that fan.

 

_“Dearest, even at the end of your life, I will make sure that you would be surrounded with life. After all, isn’t it better to be sent off with laughter and the voices of those who would remember you?”_

 

Class: SR - Strength

Design points:

  * Inspired off the fact that noodle dishes by the  _bilao_  is often a staple in any fiesta/party/social gathering in my culture. Pancit Palabok being one of the usual and common variations served.
  * Her physical form is based on the  _tita_  or auntie person who you’d meet in any social gathering, talking with almost any age group (much to the chagrin of some especially if she’s a talkative sort) and basically that adult who can either look well-groomed or lacking in fashion sense. There is hardly any in between with a tita.
  * While pressed for the lack of time, Palabok’s outfit is a modernized Filipiniana with an extremely pleated skirt to emulate the noodles used in the dish itself. Her sleeves are translucent white to signify the color of the noodles as well. Her earrings are the egg toppings while the rest of the toppings float around in the orange sauce around her.



 


	23. Favorite Ship/s

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three entries for this one. But it's kinda obvious which one is my bias amongst all of it.
> 
> A big thank you to fwehioldvs@Tumblr for the last one's headcanon, even if it kinda steered off from the original concept a bit.

 

**I.**

 

“Oi, bastard.”

He didn’t acknowledge him, didn’t even bother looking up from his perusal of the novel he bought for himself a few days ago. Steak didn’t deserve his full attention if that was how he was going to greet him every single time they had to converse.

For a moment there was nothing. Though knowing Steak’s limit on patience, all he did was kept reading until the horned Food Soul finally gave up and he heard a loud sigh.

“Spaghetti.” His name was spoken with barely restrained annoyance. This time, the fiery redhead decided to indulge the other and looked up from the book.

“To what do I honor of your visit, dog?” He saw the twitch at the edge of Steak’s eyes but the other refrained from shouting at him in a knee-jerk reaction.

“I need a flower.”

Spaghetti raised a brow in confusion.

“A flower? What on Tierra do you need a flower for?” This was a strange request to be making of him, especially from Steak who didn’t have a single notion of what being a romantic is.

“Because you’re always going on about flowers and some artistic bullshit so I thought you’d know what kind of flower Master Attendant would like.” Steak explained in a rush of breath, cheeks suddenly flushing in what Spaghetti assumed would be embarrassment.

Well, put that way...

“It baffles me why you would come to me instead of asking your Red Wine for this-”

“That’s exactly it. Red Wine would sooner waste my time fighting over a trivial point when I expected you to be more forthcoming! And you’re the kind of guy who knows his stuff instead of pretending that you do when you don’t.” Steak interrupted. He looked away, running a hand through his hair and looking more irate by the second.

“You know what, forget it-”

“Campanula.”

Steak paused. “Excuse me?”

“Campanula.” Spaghetti repeated with a theatrical drawl, fixing Steak with a steady look of exasperation. “Colloquially, it would be called a bellflower due to its shape. The flower merchant in the market may have them in stock. Or you can try your luck with the flower fields on the outskirts. If I have to guess, you’re trying to show appreciation for our master. It may work with your case.”

“...”

The redhead rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that look. You wanted a flower? I gave you one. Now leave me to my book.” Spaghetti waved him off, opening the book to where he had bookmarked the page with his finger. He was also getting to a good part of the story. He sincerely hoped that his answer would satisfy Steak instead of insisting on another flower. He didn’t think he would be able to hold back from suggesting a flower with negative connotations if that were to happen.

“... Thanks, I guess.” Fortunately, it did not. Steak was finally putting to use his elusive sense of tact.

“Do not mention it, dog.”

“Bastard! I have a name.”

“A pet has a name but to acknowledge it would mean acknowledging an attachment. I would like to avoid any such complications.”

“Wow. And I was this close to thinking pet names were something you gave when you like someone.”

Spaghetti threw Steak a look. But he was no Red Wine, and didn’t stoop to Steak’s level of fighting. With a loud snap of his book closing, he stood up and forcefully turned Steak around and pushed him out of the room before slamming his door shut, ignoring the other redhead’s angry protests.

  
  


**II.**

 

“Have a good night, miss Sarah!”

Coffee bade goodnight to the last of his customers for the day, then flipped the sign to CLOSED and locked the shop door behind him.

Even with the new store now located in the woods by the city outskirts, there were still people who manage to find it. Usually they were travelers who pass through the trails nearby, but sometimes he would get several who came from the city hoping to have a taste of his good coffee.

It didn’t bother him in the least, and that was the whole point of opening his cafe as a cafe rather than as something a little less grand as a cover for his sideline. Business was business and a satisfied customer always made him just a little more happy for the day.

On some days, he misses his Master Attendant, but he never regretted the decision to nullify his contract with them, especially when they had offered it freely to Coffee in order for him to continue living and pursuing his goals.

Hah, didn’t that sound ironic?

But knowing that they were living well and surrounded by Food Souls who cared for them eased his thoughts. Knowing was enough.

He left the cleanup to Milk and proceeded to the residential part of the coffee shop, passing by Pastel being hard at work preparing the batch of pastries for tomorrow. He retreated to his room upstairs, shedding off his coat and loosening his bowtie then sat in his well-worn chair.

It was a routine by now. He took out the box of letters and began skimming through them, reading and rereading and sorting them into piles on his desk.

Outside the moon slowly rose to its zenith. For a moment, activity bustled in the hallway as most of his companions turned in for another quiet night.

_ It won’t be quiet for long. _ He thought as he placed another letter into what he dubbed as his ‘Approved’ pile.

He heard the door creak open, and at once he smelled the familiar smell of hot cocoa just lightly sweetened with condensed milk. The hot drink was placed on a vacant spot on his desk by a dark-skinned hand. That same hand then playfully ruffled his hair, accompanied by a voice he has long familiarized himself with.

“Working hard again tonight, Coffee? You’re putting the rest of us to shame.” Chocolate said teasingly.

Coffee looked up at the other Food Soul and said, “If I don’t have these answered by tomorrow morning, you’ll all be complaining about having nothing to do.”

“Me? Complain? Coffee, you wound me.” Chocolate placed a hand over his heart dramatically, then without warning, leaned heavily against Coffee. “Have I ever complained about a job request from you?”

“Chocolate, get off.”

The Food Soul seemingly ignored him. “Black Tea may be used to doing missions all the time but I wouldn’t mind having some time off and spending it in the cafe. You, Milk and Tiramisu must be swamped with work and I do want to interact with the customers myself.”

“Chocolate.”

“Hm?”

“ _ Please. _ ”

“But I like it here.”

“I can’t finish anything if you keep distracting me like this.” Coffee may be used to Chocolate’s playfulness, but it didn’t mean he was tolerant of it all the time. Seemingly getting the point, The dark-skinned Food Soul chuckled, then pushed himself off the blonde.

“Thank yo-”

He never got to finish his sentence as Chocolate leaned into his space and captured his lips with a chaste kiss. As quick as the action came, the weight lifted off his lips and he was left gaping in surprise. Chocolate had the audacity to have a smug little gleam in his eyes.

“If you ever feel like heading to bed some time soon, you know where to find me.” And with a last wink and smile, he left Coffee to his work.

The blonde Food Soul exhaled loudly through his nose, fighting the tiny blush that made its way to his cheeks as he buried his face in his hands and groaned.

  
  


**III.**

 

He should have locked his door.

In his defense, he hadn’t expected anyone to come pester him during his day off. The usual culprit his Master Attendant, but they were on guild duty today. Foie wasn’t particularly chatty and he was the one who sought her out more often than she did him. And as much as Steak and Rice had a good working relationship with him, they knew not to bother him for idle talk. The rest of the Food Souls usually wanted nothing to do with him unless it was needed. That was the way he wanted it to stay.

Pizza, it seemed, was the only exception to all of the above.

He felt a finger prodding his cheek. “Hey, hey, Noodel.”

“It is  _ Spaghetti _ . Do not call me that.” He grounded out, trying his hardest not to snap shut his book and glare at the offending digit and its owner.

“You’re always cooped up in your room whenever you have free time. Don’t you have any other hobbies?” Pizza asked. The blonde Food Soul had flopped on his bed as soon as he invited himself into Spaghetti’s room.

While he frowned at the lack of Pizza asking his permission, Spaghetti was ready to tolerate him so long as he kept quiet, but then he started prodding him. Did the blonde honestly expect him to ask Pizza how his day was? Or to chatter with him simply because he now trained him in combat alongside Cassata and Steak?

In any case, Spaghetti just wanted to finish reading his book. Pizza was a distraction.

He ignored Pizza’s question and instead said, “If you want someone to coddle you, go seek your Cassata.”

“I don’t know where Cassata is.”

“A pity.” Spaghetti responded dryly. As much as Cheese was the other option, she was often busy with the restaurant so she never came home earlier than sunset. Inwardly, Spaghetti grumbled about Cassata leaving his friend alone when he should be keeping Pizza company instead of himself.

“Can’t I do something fun with you?”

“You speak as if we’re supposed to be  _ friends _ .” Spaghetti retorted, putting emphasis on the last word. He tried and failed to reread the first paragraph he was stuck on for the last five minutes.

That gave Pizza pause. “... Aren’t we?” He asked. His tone was suddenly quiet, and when Spaghetti glanced at him, the expression on Pizza’s face looked crestfallen. That made his scathing words falter from being spoken.

He couldn’t understand why Pizza was drawn to him, out of everyone else besides the obvious. He did nothing that particularly stood out as far as he could remember. Nothing that he hadn’t acted on outside of his Master Attendant’s suggestions.

_ This is unfair. _ He thought, feeling something inside him give in.

“Fine.” He spoke with put-upon exasperation. He stood from the bed and summoned his trademark cape around his shoulders. “An hour outside and nothing more. Choose your destination wisely.”

He didn’t think too much about the suddenly bright smile plastered on Pizza’s face.

  
  


It was a cold day outside, the sky an overcast winter grey as snow fell softly. As Food Souls, neither of them felt the cold as sharply as humans did, which was a boon in a way. All the humans they passed were wearing thick and heavy winter clothes, their breathes coming out in white puffs of air as they walked past.

Pizza had chosen to go to the local park, even though there wasn’t much to do there with the winter chill driving everyone to stay indoors. Spaghetti didn’t talk much during the walk, and simply let Pizza monologue about what Cassata had been teaching him, the battles he fought, or the latest pranks he’d helped Cheese and Mooncake with, or was the target of.

_ How does he maintain such cheeriness after being the target of such childish inanities? _ Spaghetti wondered. For someone as airheaded as Pizza, Spaghetti thought there should still be a hard limit to what Pizza could tolerate. That was unless he actually enjoyed being the butt of the jokes.

_ Huh.  _ That was an interesting notion to pick apart and ruminate on, one that Spaghetti filed away in his mind for a later time.

“Okay, I guess this spot is okay.”

“Why you insist on coming here during the winter is beyond me.” Spaghetti spoke as they finally reached a bench by the pond. The pond had mostly frozen over after the steady drop of temperature during the past few days, the snow covering the icy surface.

“There’s a couple of things you can still do here!” Pizza exclaimed, extending his arms out to gesture towards their surroundings. “I mean, we can throw snowballs at each other-”

Spaghetti raised a hand to interrupt. “I refuse. Find a different activity that doesn’t involve me getting lobbed with clustered snowflakes.”

For a long moment, Pizza was deep in thought. Spaghetti waited patiently, silently tapping his boot against the snow. When the blonde’s shoulders drooped, the fiery redhead rolled his eyes and lightly hit Pizza over the head with the paperback he brought with him.

“Fool, since you can’t think of one, go amuse yourself then.”

“Wait-”

“I will be here on this bench. As if you should be left unsupervised.” Spaghetti scoffed. He brushed off the snow from half of the bench and sat with a leg crossed over the other. The redhead opened his book to the bookmarked page and proceeded to ignore whatever expression he could imagine was on Pizza’s face.

The other didn’t argue, nor did he throw a tantrum. Instead, Spaghetti listened as the other walked away and did whatever it was that he would occupy himself with. Once in a while, he would look over to see Pizza wandering on the banks of the frozen pond, poking through the frozen reeds or looking out over the water towards the far side where a group of humans were idling on the bridge.

Spaghetti returned to his book, sinking himself into the fascinating world of a mysterious man who called an opera house his palace, and who had developed an obsessive affection for a young diva in the making.

He hadn’t gotten past three chapters when his reading was interrupted.

“Uh… Spaghetti? Spaghetti!” He could hear Pizza’s suddenly frantic yell.

He sighed. “What is it?”

“I-I think I stepped on the ice.”

That grabbed his full attention. His head snapped up to see Pizza standing further into the body of water, if the frozen reeds were to be his reference. He immediately stood up from the bench and walked briskly to the shores, his eyebrows furrowed as he yelled.

“Commoner! How much of an idiot do you have to be to not see that  _ it is a frozen pond?! _ ”

“I’m sorry, alright?! I just thought it could hold my weight until I heard it crack!” Pizza’s voice turned a pitch higher when he unconsciously shifted and there was a loud and audible crack from underneath him.

There was silence.

And then suddenly Spaghetti was hit by the thought of how comical Pizza looked just standing there like a spooked deer. It looked so funny in fact, that he started chuckling.

“This isn’t funny!” Pizza cried out.

“Oh, but it is. Rather fitting for a jester, don’t you think? I have half a mind about leaving you right there.” The grin on Spaghetti’s face only grew wider as he pretended to take a step back.

“Please no!”

As much as Spaghetti was tempted to leave him there, he didn’t want to go home and answer to his Master Attendant if Pizza was still missing by the end of the day. He could avoid it, but Cassata had long since figured out that Pizza had an inclination towards him, so there was no escaping that particular Food Soul’s scrutiny.

“Fine. Take small steps towards me. Slowly.” He instructed. Spaghetti stuffed his book into the hidden pocket of his vest and slowly tested the ice on the banks, pressing a booted foot slowly and firmly to check if the ice could hold his weight. Once he found a path, he tried to close the gap between himself and the steadily approaching Food Soul.

Then he heard the ice crack, but did not feel it underneath him. Instead, he only had a split second to see Pizza’s surprised and horrified face before the ice gave way beneath the blonde and he fell through.

The water hadn’t been that deep where Pizza fell. He flailed for a few seconds as he coughed and sputtered out water while he sat half submerged in the icy waters. Spaghetti crossed the last of the distance between them and unceremoniously pulled Pizza up by the collar and immediately dragged him to shore before the ice would crack and he fell through too.

He dropped the still sputtering Food Soul, eyeing him disdainfully as he waited for the other to calm down.

“So how was the swim?” He couldn’t help the sneer in his tone. It was uncharacteristic of Pizza to glare up at him, but it didn’t faze him in the slightest. The glare didn’t stick for long and Pizza brought his knees up, still dripping wet from the plunge. In Spaghetti’s perspective, he just looked like a miserable wet dog.

“I don’t want to do that again.” Pizza mumbled, pressing his face against his knees. Spaghetti could almost sympathize with him, but Pizza did bring it on himself for going out there like that.

He patted the blonde’s head once. “That’s enough excitement for one day. Come, you should dissipate those clothes privately.” He extended a hand to Pizza.

“Food Souls don’t get sick from stuff like this, Spaghetti.” The blonde retorted. He took the offered hand anyway and allowed Spaghetti to pull him up without much effort.

“No, but it doesn’t mean we’re completely impervious to other forces.” He replied when a sudden thought hit him. Spaghetti canted his head, then without fanfare, he pulled off his own cape and draped it around the blonde’s shoulders.

The gesture surprised him. “Spaghetti?”

“You can’t walk around advertising your humiliating plunge. Pull the cape tightly around you and do not get distracted.” Spaghetti said, then began walking towards the direction of the park’s entrance. At the least, this worked out in his favor. With their little outing cut short, Spaghetti could return to the confines of his room and finish his book in peace.

He heard the shorter one run to catch up to him. He chanced a glance at Pizza and met his gaze, a warm gleam in his sky blue eyes that matched the smile he was giving him. 

“Thanks, Noodel.”

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would have added another two ships that's close to my heart but I have no time for it and it's really better expressed as NSFW. Something I'm not yet ready to share with the rest of the fandom.
> 
> As I was working on this day’s challenge, I noticed some continuity errors with two of my ongoing multi-chapter fanfics so I’ve decided to just separate one of them and making it its own standalone universe.
> 
> Anyway, I'll be on holiday hiatus and the rest of the challenges will be completed after Christmas.


	24. Surprise someone with a gift!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this one, I decided on someone else surprising Spaghetti with a present because someone (who isn’t his master attendant) has to derail him sometimes (that someone else actually cares).

  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also as headcanon’d and accidentally hinted at by Steak in Day 23, if Spaghetti gives someone a nickname outside of ‘trash’, ‘commoner’ and ‘toy’, it can mean something else entirely. Maybe.


	25. Free Holiday Themed Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!

 

“Okay, steady… steady…!”

 

There’s a reason Master Attendant didn’t want to put up a Yule Tree like they did in their old home.

Their new home was bigger than their last, so there was room for a Yule Tree this time around. But Rice shared Master Peixes’ sentiments about another noodle incident involving flammable organic trees in the backyard and drunken Food Souls from two years ago. So in fear of said incident happening again, no one had been allowed to set up another tree.

However this year, Tempura and Tom Yum had dragged back a Yule Tree they’d purchased from a passing caravan.

_ A whim,  _ they said.  _ It would look awesome decorated with lights and shiny things _ , they said.

Sure, it was smaller than the last one, but it was still a tree and it was still flammable, and the number of temperamental or easily excitable Food Souls hadn’t decreased at all but increased.

Looking at Udon and Pizza, she probably should add in clumsy too.

Rice was beside herself with worry watching them setting up the seven and a half foot tall tree in their bigger backyard, surrounded by Food Souls who were tasked with decorating both the house interior (and now the tree) and also to help with the cooking for their Yule Feast.

The worst part was that none of this had been consented to by Spaghetti or Steak. Spaghetti, because he had heard about the noodle incident from her and Steak. And Steak at least, had the conscience to be guilty about being part of said past incident and had been adamantly enforcing the ‘No Tree’ rule last year.

The two redheads were off on a full day’s errand with Master Attendant and wouldn’t be back until the Yule Feast proper. By then, the alcohol supply would have started flowing and there would be a lot of roughhousing involved.

Rice, as much as most of the Food Souls looked to her as on the same level as the redheads when it came to the chain of command, would still ignore her concerned pleas if it meant they get to have a little fun. She wasn’t their Master Attendant, and there was only one of her and many of them.

Sometimes Rice wished her Master was a bit more serious about keeping the others in line. It was hard being a tiny Food Soul when there was no tall authoritative figure to back her up.

“Cold Shrimp! A little more to the left. Oh, that looks perfect!”

“Hah! What are you talkin’ about? That color isn’t even right for that angle!”

“Toso, are you drunk?”

“When am I  _ not _ drunk, old man?”

Rice felt cold fear running through her. She was sure of it, she can feel it in her non-existent bones that so many things could go wrong before midnight even hits.

_ Please come home soon, Master Attendant! _

 


	26. Food Soul or Feature Most Excited For

  
  


Turkey. Just Turkey. 


	27. A New Feature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guild Feature: Gauntlet run with just one Food Soul you have a Sacred Ruler bond with, and you support them with three MA Talents.

 

“My master, this is utterly boring. Can we not get right to the meat of the matter?”

Beside them, Spaghetti looked bored of the formalities. Not that they could blame him. Their ‘supervisor’ for this batch they were included with was as dead as a master-attendant-in-training dealing with a low-pay high-stress side job.

“Cut the guy some slack.” They whispered back, patting his hand in a manner meant to be comforting. “He wants this over and done with as much as you do. We’re going to land in ten minutes anyway.”

Spaghetti rolled his eyes. He did at least listen, but that was by exiting the room and leaving Peixes to the crowd and the bored drawl of the supervisor’s briefing.

_ This Tower better be worth the trip and putting up with Spaghetti’s stir craziness. _

When the Tower was first discovered, the Academy was all up in arms sending many research teams to study the new phenomenon that had appeared in the foggy territory of the northeastern mountains. It was a place that usually didn’t garner a lot of attention, not with the mountains being a breeding ground of Fallen Angels and that many of the researchers weren’t Master Attendants themselves.

So the Royal Chef’s Guild had collaborated with them, in part due to the merchants wanting to see if this new structure held new resources for them. Groups of Food Souls were volunteered and hired on to clean out a safe path, and it wasn’t long before the Academy researchers had made it to the spiraling tower that went up as far as the eyes could see, its top obscured from view by the perpetual fog and the clouds of the jagged mountain range.

Then they discovered something frustrating.

They found out that their teams of researchers couldn’t proceed past what was seen as the ground floor’s decrepit lobby, neither could a lot of the Food Souls and Master Attendants. Some invisible barrier barred entrance to the long hallway that led up to a spiral of stairs that went up out of view.

In the end it wasn’t known how the Academy managed to figure out what allowed them to bypass the barrier. All that was known was that word had spread to the kingdoms through the guild network, calling for all Master Attendants who wished to test their mettle and their bond with their most trusted Food Soul.

They called it the Tower of Promise. It was open to any Master Attendant belonging to any guild. To all those who would participate, they would be awarded handsomely in proportion to the information and loot they brought back from their trek through the tower.

Peixes didn’t know why they called the tower as such, only that it sounded odd for a naming scheme. But either way, they’d come all the way out here by airship out of curiosity and because Spaghetti had expressed interest in this outing, though they had a sneaking suspicion it was only to get out of handling the household for a day or two.

Either way, it was a good way to stretch their wings. It has been a while since they’ve participated in a real fight.

 


	28. Me and My Favorite Food Soul Hanging Out

 

 

  


 

Grocery shopping with the Noodel and Noodel is in a happy chatty mood about some poor idiot he gets to watch make a fool of himself.

 


	29. Food Fantasy Crossover

 

  


**[Crossover with Ragnarok Mobile]**

Steak doing his job as the party’s tank by…. holding everyone’s hands and dragging them away from danger.

 


	30. Free Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Master Attendant is privy to a fluffy little moment of their Showdown Team + Cassata.

 

It had been a long day. Though it wasn’t that different from all the other days that had come to past this year.

Between dealing with oddball guildmates, irritating merchants and customers, and coming home to a large family sometimes on the brink of shooting themselves in the foot, Master Attendant Peixes counted themselves lucky that everything was running as smoothly as it could be given all these.

It was nearly midnight when they finally returned from bidding goodnight to Pudding and the rest of the restaurant staff who still made use of the old living quarters. Some of the other Food Souls were also out on explorations or spending the night at the restaurant so the house wasn’t as noisy as it usually is.

The Master Attendant walked up the small path to the front door, seeing the flickering lights of the fireplace from the small crack between the drawn curtains. Someone must still be up. It could be Spaghetti, so that meant he was already home from Showdown with the others. 

The keys jingled from their pocket and they unlocked the front door, closing it behind them to prevent the cold winter air from rushing in and the warmth of the house from leaving.

Switching out their outdoor boots for house slippers, they quickly noticed Cheese in the hallway, peeping into the room with a soft expression on her face.

Now Peixes was curious.

“Ch-” The Food Soul immediately looked up and placed a finger over her lips, quickly shushing them. Peixes held their words and quietly tiptoed close to her and peered into the room.

The first they noticed was the trio in front of the fireplace. Steak was asleep with his back against Red Wine’s, who was facing the fireplace. And it was odd to the Master Attendant to find Bloody Mary with his head pillowed on Red Wine’s lap instead of on Steak’s. In fact, they weren’t aware when the three of them had reached this level of co-existing when the glimpses Master Attendant got was of them arguing in one way or another. But this was better, all things considered. And it made them feel a surge of pride to see them getting along without their interference or the contract’s.

Moving on, they found Spaghetti in his usual armchair closest to the fireplace. He’d nodded off with his chin resting against a raised hand, his softly sleeping face something barely anyone even Peixes had seen. A new book laid on his lap, held open in his limp hand on the page he was reading before he’d nodded off.

And closest to Peixes and Cheese were Pizza and Cassata on the couch. At the sound of the front door opening, Cassata had stirred awake and was looking back at them with a raised brow. Cheese silently walked over to them with a grin, ruffling Pizza’s hair. That earned her a soft whine from Pizza but he remained steadfastly asleep against the redhead.

Peixes made their way over Spaghetti and shook him lightly. His brows furrowed and he opened his eyes to shoot whoever woke him with an unimpressed stare. That expression immediately softened when he saw it was his Master Attendant.

“Ah. Welcome back, my master.” Spaghetti murmured, stifling a yawn.

“I guess you guys had so much fun that you tired yourselves out?” Peixes asked, deliberately keeping their voice low even though Steak and Red Wine was beginning to stir.

“Of course.” Spaghetti answered haughtily, finally blinking the sleep away from his eyes. “What kind of strategist would I be if I cannot bring victory for something so easy?”

“Yeah, sure.  _ Easy _ .” Peixes replied goodnaturedly. “Come on, go sleep properly in your rooms. Tomorrow’s another day.”

One by one the Food Souls in the common room stirred awake. Red Wine and Steak were the first to go, comically leaving Bloody Mary on the carpet before he eventually woke up and quickly trailed after the duo.

Cassata tried to shake Pizza awake. When Pizza stubbornly kept sleeping even after Cheese joined in, Cassata breathed out a long suffering sigh and simply carried the blonde up to his room.

Spaghetti was the last to go, as always. He waited until his Master Attendant left the room before trailing after them, placing a hand against their back as they ascended the stairs. Peixes never understood the habit of it, didn’t even know if he did this only to them. But it was a harmless quirk Spaghetti has had even before their pledge, so they saw no reason to disallow him this.

“Sleep well, Spaghetti.” Peixes said, just as they stopped in front of their bedroom and Spaghetti continued on to his.

The redhead stopped, then turned with a smug little smile on his face that belied the fondness gleaming in his lavender eyes.

“Good night, my master.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more day.


	31. Hope for the New Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been fun. But all things come to an end so something else can begin.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I actually finished this challenge, and to boot, my first completed 'thingy' on AO3. Well then, it's time for a small breather then it's back to finishing my backlog and tackling new projects.
> 
> Look forward to my slow updates. Until next time then.


End file.
